Hello, Charlotte
by The cursed child
Summary: He threatens both the kids in front of their mother, but as soon as Rachel is out of ear-shot he changes his orders. "You know what, kill the boy first if she tries anything. Bring the girl to my office, we have a lot to discuss,"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N For our daily fix of Charloe, what will we do without our lovely ship. Enjoy guys!**

Miles' niece is exactly like him, and at the same time exactly like Rachel, though those two almost couldn't be more different. It's an odd mix of personalities. The girl draws on the extremes of passion and fierceness and love mixes it with a special brand of ruthlessness and compassion meeting somewhere in the middle.

He's heard the stories a dozen times, read the reports of every incident she's been involved in, has them piled up in his upper desk drawer so he can re-read them whenever he feels like it, which is increasingly more often.

Jeremy went on and on in great detail about his own confrontation with the young Matheson. His friend's debrief went on for hours so the captain could recount every single word and translate every facial expression. Bass had been intrigued and not stopped him once, despite the fact that he usually shuts Baker up pretty quickly.

How little Charlotte reacted to the news of Miles' past became his obsession. The way he heard it she'd never even flinched in fear when she found out she was facing the General in charge of the Monroe Militia, co-founder of the Republic.

She'd inexplicably tried to understand when she should've killed him where he stood. How she'd waited to hear the whole story and hadn't judged even then.

She'd protected him even though she'd just, literally seconds ago, found out he was just as responsible for Ben's death as Bass himself. Maybe she hadn't followed that logic herself yet, but he would be sure to point that out if he ever got the chance.

Repeatedly, the captain had recounted the moment where Miles could've killed him, defenseless on the ground much like when they first found him. That he had left Jeremy alive and ran instead of taking the whole group of Militia soldiers out in the confusion of the explosions. Knowing Miles, he could've slaughter the division. He's done something similar in Baltimore before (to the enemy of course). Now they still call him The Butcher.

Bass has a chance to get his best friend back. All he has to do is make sure he uses the kid. Miles is attached to her and will do anything to keep her safe and happy. If the president can win Charlie over, she'll do the rest for him. A good hostage works every time, Miles had taught him that.

Speaking of, it's time to convince Rachel to build the amplifier. He is done playing her head games, especially because he is still winning right now, and that might change tomorrow. The woman sets his teeth on edge by simply being herself. She is the only prisoner he's ever had that managed to remain equal to him.

His last plan to mess with her had succeeded beyond his wildest hopes. He'd isolated her from any and all human contact but his own, not even the guards were allowed to see her. The windows in her suite were blacked out so she could not even observe the bustling civilians on the streets below.

All he'd had to do was show her a bit of kindness, and she'd succumbed to it like a starved child aching for food. Rachel had two weak points that would work every time, points that she couldn't stop herself from reacting to; her children's safety, and her affair with Miles.

Causing her to cheat on both her husband and her lover had been the one thing left he'd had to convince her to speak up about the lights. He'd never wanted to go that far, Rachel was too much of a psychopath to actually be interested in, but her manipulation attempts had gotten under his skin, and he'd needed revenge.

It had broken her, sparked an all-encompassing hatred in her that barely kept the pieces together, and still Rachel had not given in. He'd failed, and even the triumph of seeing her really cry for the first time since her captivity hadn't kept him in a good mood for long.

And despite the fact that he'd never wanted Benjamin to die (Miles would hate him for it), he'd hoped that it would be enough to flip her to his side, but even now she was holding out for her children's arrival. The woman was infuriating.

Charlotte Matheson is everything he imagined and more. He listens carefully to every word she says, amused at her strangely realistic naiveté. Her view of the world is jaded, but there is a hope in her voice that causes a perspective of the Dark Days unlike anything he's ever imagined.

He watches, fascinated, as she jumps in front of Strausser's gun. That self-sacrifice is uniquely Charlie, neither of her parents would ever have done something that stupid and brave. He almost snorts at her last argument. There's nothing more important than family, and he's built an empire to prove it.

She stares death in the face, not even scared, frozen and stoic. Maybe it's because everyone knows that Rachel will give in before the bullet can leave the barrel. Charlie is too important to his future and to the Republic that she can't be allowed to die, and Bass wonders if she knows what he's thinking, even if she's barely spared him a glance. The conviction on her face is undeniably real, but the girl can't want to die. No one does in the end.

Like he predicted, Rachel's weaknesses conquer her morals and she acquiesces his request. She breaks down and begs. Victory hasn't been this sweet in a while, he can almost taste it.

He threatens both the kids in front of their mother, but as soon as Rachel is out of ear-shot he changes his orders.

"You know what, kill the boy first if she tries anything. Bring the girl to my office, we have a lot to discuss," he tells one of his guards and sees him separate the kids. Danny is dragged back to his cell while Charlie screams at their actions, struggling to break free and wounding two before she is contained, impressive.

The make-shift office in the power plant is far from imposing. It would've been useless anyway, the girl doesn't look like the type to be impressed by his Persian rug or the 18th century mahogany desk.

The soldiers force her through the door in front of him, and after a quick check for weapons the general tells them to leave. Whatever he's going to say is to stay between them.

"Matheson and Monroe, it seems like it was inevitable for us to meet. Let's call it destiny," He won't ever be able to rid himself of Miles and his family, no matter if he kills them all. The impression these people leave on his mind and skin have already scarred too deeply to ever be erased.

"For you to die? Miles has tried." She's heard the story by now, knows the two used to be best friends, or maybe they still are. "My mom has tried." Not that she has proof, but she can read body language when it's as obvious as theirs. Rachel hates Sebastian Monroe more than her daughter ever will. "I'm next in line, don't you think?" Charlie smirks bravely.

She has no idea what Monroe will do to her, but she suspects he will kill them all either way. The young woman doesn't know any better, doesn't want to know any better. This self-appointed general is not a man in her eyes, he plans to change that.

Monroe is amused at her defiance. "And they've both failed," he reminds her with a confident smile. Miles hadn't killed him that night, and it is a memory he clings to for hope even though it is the source for most of his nightmares. They have a chance; is the mantra that goes through his mind every second he waits for his best friend to show up and rescue this exquisite young woman from his clutches.

"I won't fail, Monroe," she says it confidently enough that he is almost convinced, were it not that the girl who said it is unarmed and has far less than a year of training with Miles, where he has several decades of experience and knows every trick the other general will have doubtlessly taught her.

"You really think you're that good, don't you?" It's an honest question, and he sees her hesitate at the answer, lunging for him instead with the scissors she must've gotten from his desk to hide her insecurities.

He easily stops the stabbing motion toward his stomach, at least she knows to aim for soft tissue, by hitting her wrist. In shock (though it doesn't hurt), it falls from her hand and gives Bass the time to spin her around so her back is glued to his chest. His fingers are resting on her throat, more like a caress than a grip, but his guest knows exactly how easily it can become a chokehold.

She tries to throw him of once more, hooking his leg with her boot-clad foot and moving it forward. He notices her action long before she even starts it and adjusts his grip. His other hand now rests over her bare bellybutton where her shirt has hiked up her skin.

Bass keeps his head just to the side of hers, knowing Mathesons, she'll try to break his nose by slamming her gentle curls into his face. This stubborn family definitely has the hardest skulls he's ever encountered, so he gladly takes the precaution.

His mouth is now in perfect position, just below her ear, to whisper: "Most people that get this close to me get shred to ribbons." He means it more as a reassurance than a threat. He hasn't harmed her, and he won't.

Charlie somehow gets the mixed signal, and frowns. This game Monroe is playing makes her feel she is left way out of his league. Whatever he, Miles and Rachel have set up as a game board, they're fifty paces ahead and she's only just left start.

"I'm not most people," she tries, trying to figure out this plan of his so she can stop it. If she has to pretend to comply with his wishes to end him, she will.

Almost like he knows what she's just decided, his fingers press down lightly on her neck to remind her the president still has the upper hand, like she could forget the digits that have been moving on her throat in what she would call comfort had it not been Monroe doing it.

Right after, they relax again, like he believes her, even if the warning says otherwise. The hand he has left moves to her hip, the other staying in place to cut off her air supply if he needs to, and hooks a finger through her belt loop.

"That, you are not," he agrees, "which is why I could use your assistance." He refuses to use the word help as long as he can. Charlie is unaware of how important Mathesons are to him, and he needs the whole set like he needs to breathe, his family just because Miles is his brother. They have to be close so he can protect them from everything. Every single one of the, is now in his grasp, and he can't stand the though of losing them again.

Charlie, astonished by his request, turns in his arms. She's surprised he lets her, his limbs loosening just long enough to get her back in position. In any other situation, this could've been a lover's embrace. "After all, the only reason Miles would refuse my offer is because he can't stand to lose you."

Immediately, she is captivated by his eyes, blue orbs observing her from a distance that is far too close. His hand in her neck would be in perfect position to guide her lips to meet his if they had indeed been lovers instead of the enemies Charlie wants them to be.

He actually releases her. A part of her, the one that is still delusional from the tunnels beneath Philly and chilled to the bone, misses the warmth of the human furnace.

She takes a subtle deep breath while he's turned away from her as he makes his way to the desk and regains her senses. The scissors she dropped are maybe five feet from her boot, and if she is quick enough she might be able to drive it through Monroe's spine an paralyze him long enough to kill him.

"And why would I help you?" she asks to distract him, eyes darting between her chosen weapon and her target, "You killed my dad."

The president rests his palms on the edge of the desk and sighs in remorse, which is real despite what Charlie thinks. "We never meant for that to happen, Charlotte."

She snorts, than stops once she processes the words. "We?" It seems her list of targets is going to have to expand if there were more people involved. That Neville guy who took Danny is just below Monroe, she has space for a third.

Bass grins where she can't possibly see it. He has her exactly where he wanted to have her from the start. "The bounty on Ben's head was a long standing warrant, almost as old as our Republic." He can barely believe that the Black-out has already been going on for this long. "Miles wrote it because we believed your father was involved in whatever caused the lights to flip."

Charlie temporarily forgets her murder strategy when her curiosity gets the better of her. "My dad," she says incredulously, "involved in the Black-out. You're joking, right?" Bass can't remember the last time someone was this disrespectful to him. It's strangely satisfying to have someone question his sanity out loud. He faces her to explain it in more detail.

"Your mom is busy building me an amplifier because she is one in a hand-full of people on the world who understands how the pendants work, and you still think your dad didn't know anything?" He loves watching her think, he decides as a little part of her world crumbles when she draws her conclusions. "Benjamin called me and Miles that night, and he warned us what would happen before the first light switched off. It is why we tried to find him, and why your mom has been here all these years. She knows how to turn them back on."

She doesn't accuse him of lying. The possibility to do so doesn't even cross her mind as she processes all this new information. Like Jeremy had reported, she barely reacts at first. Her eyes water, but she doesn't cry. Her full focus is on compartmentalizing her pain so Bass can't see that he just flipped her world upside down and took away the last hope she had that her suspicions were wrong.

Bass grants her that. He has all the time in the world until Miles arrives. His friend will try to save his niece and nephew and push Monroe away because even if he loves them all equally, while Bass easily measures up to one kid , the siblings overpower him with numbers alone.

If he can convince the girl to his side, Miles won't have to choose at all. Danny will follow Charlie, and Rachel won't leave her kids. All he has to do for now is plant the first seeds of doubt in the young woman's mind. Keep her in Philly long enough to get them to see his point of view.

"Give me some time, Charlotte, and I'll be able to convince Rachel to bring back the lights once and for all. No harm will come to you or Danny." Now that he has the kids, their mom will work with him no problem, he's already proven it.

"And Miles?" Her quick mind, intuitive and strong immediately bargains for her uncle's safety as well, though Bass is interested to note that her mother's is not worth negotiation.

"I have never planned to harm your uncle, kid," he says truthfully. Charlie believes him in this instance, which proves how smart she is. The young woman might not understand yet, but she seems willing to try.

"I still hate you," Charlie reminds him. She just made a deal with the devil, and she needs to keep that in mind. Once they turn on the power, he'll die by her hand. The scissors lie on the floor, fading back into a simple office instrument instead of the murder weapon for one of the greatest men on the planet.

"How is it," Bass questions, approaching her again and looking her straight in the eye. When defiant blue meets his own, he continues: "that you can love your uncle as much as you do, but hate me this badly?" He hasn't missed the murderous flash that crossed her face after her non-verbal agreement.

"Miles is a better man than you can ever hope to be," she glares like she's insulted he dared to compare himself with her beloved uncle. He can't deny the truth, though the difference between him and his best friend is far smaller than she might think.

"You love Miles only because I'm the scapegoat for his crimes as well as my own," he voices for her. All the blame she could pile on her uncle has been shoved to Bass so she can be allowed to love the only man who has ever put her above everyone else, including her little brother. Charlie can't hate her uncle because without him she has nobody left, and Bass can understand needing Miles more than needing air so he sympathizes.

The young Matheson doesn't deny it, and he feels something shift between them. Maybe he's just succeeded in getting her to think of him as human by halving her hate and shifting it to the others worthy of it, namely her parents and her uncle.

They're interrupted by Captain Baker walking in. Bass is in a good mood, he's accomplished what he said out to do, so he is a lot less stressed at the thought of Miles coming to kill him, again. "Neville?" he asks Jeremy without taking his eyes off the girl. The Captain doesn't notice as he is just as busy staring. "Nothing yet," he reports absentmindly, a grin forming on his face as he figures out the general's plan.

"Matheson two-point-oh," he greets Charlie, "How nice to see you again." He suddenly no longer doubts that Miles will be storming the power plant to get her out.

Charlie perks up at the name of the man who came to her village. "Captain Neville?" she asks Monroe, who hasn't once turned his attention away from her.

Bass has no problem figuring out her plans; he recognizes the vengeful look that was pointed at him not ten minutes earlier. "I'm afraid that he's probably long dead, Charlotte. Miles never liked him much, and he was guarding your friends."

Charlie remembers that there are two more people that need her protection. "You won't harm them either, right?" she reacts, forgetting all about Neville for the moment.

Bass thinks back to the reports. "I could use Pittman," he says contemplatively. With the lights back on the computer genius will come in handy. Not to mention that his friendship with Ben is highly suspicious, he might be able to help Rachel.

Charlie wants to sigh in relief, but waits for Nora's conviction first. The older woman is a rebel bomb-expert, Monroe won't be anywhere as lenient with her.

"How about," Bass suggests with another step toward her, tilting his head as he judges his own plan before speaking it out loud, "you convince Nora into a truce." The woman is a major pain, but if Charlie can convince her to switch sides, even though he has no illusions that it is anything but temporary, she'll be incredibly useful. It's better he has her by his side and uncooperative than out there with the Rebels blowing his camps and soldiers up.

Charlie knows that Nora won't go for it. The young Matheson is content to give Monroe power if the rest of the world gets it too, putting everyone on equal footing and improving the way of life. Georgia has just as many electrical weapons as the Republic, if not more.

Nora will never hand the president that power unless she can be convinced that it will return the world to the way it used to be before the Dark Days and bring back the United States of America. Or if she shares her plan to kill Sebastian Monroe the moment the first lamp turns back on.

"I will try," Charlie agrees, though she promises nothing. If Monroe sees through her attempted deception, he doesn't show it.

Shouts in the hallway and the sound of gunshots alert them to Miles' presence. "Let's go and get your uncle up to speed, kid, preferably before he kills even more of our men."

They make their way through the corridors of the power plant, up the stairs and through the maze of pipes and turns. Monroe follows the sound of gunshots and tracks a trapped Miles to the boiler room. Bass orders his men to stand down for now.

He is about to speak up when something tugs on his sleeve. Looking back he finds the slender fingers attached to Charlie, who looks slightly jumpy between all the Militia men and their guns, though she does her best not to let it affect her. It's probably a reflex to kill them all that she's fighting.

"Let me," she whispers, conscious of the fact that anything louder will echo all the way to her uncle's hiding spot. Bass shakes his head. He might have a weak spot for Mathesons, but he is not an idiot. If she's been playing him she will die with Miles fighting her way out.

"If we're working together, you're going to have to learn to trust me, Monroe." She looks just a little bit smug, not trying to hide her joy at making him do something he definitely doesn't want to do. She's not even sure if the paranoid president trusts anyone anymore these days.

"I think it is a good idea, general," Jeremy interjects from where he's been listening in. "Miles listens to her more than I thought him capable of." It's a badly timed joke, which Bass glares at but makes Charlie laugh. Her uncle listens to nobody unless he had already been thinking the same thing. Just because she and Miles often agree on what to do doesn't mean he ever really listens. The older men look at her like she is ignorant for thinking they're wrong.

"Charlie?" Miles questions from his cover behind the boiler, peeking around the side to see his niece lightly grinning and unarmed in the middle of Bass, Jeremy and a handful of soldiers. It's a sight he had never dared hope he would see again. The three most important people in his world are alive and not trying to kill each other. He doesn't miss the absence of guns pointed at her back.

"What's going on?" He observes as Charlie shoots Bass a childish grin, as if she's just won something. Her words are too soft to hear from his position, but he can read her lips. "Trust me," she tells the ruler of a fourth of the former United States. His niece waits until Bass stops glaring, elated that she's pushing his buttons with sadistic glee.

Someone as distrustful as Bass, as paranoid, will have a lot of trouble to give in to a barely adult kid to get his best friend back, and it obviously grinds on his nerves. Nevertheless, the general nods and hands over the cards he's been trying to keep as close to his chest as possible.

After years of ruling an empire alone, relinquishing even this tiny amount of power is a struggle. His mind has been warped by it over time, and he's only willing to trade it so he can have his best friend back. Bass is nothing without Miles, and vice versa had always been true, until this girl showed up again and gave the older general someone else to fight for.

"It's okay, Miles," she reassures, her voice barely raised above a whisper because the reverberation does the work for her. "Monroe and I have a deal."

They don't have to be able to see the hidden general to know a frown is now prominent on his face. "What deal?" He tries to fight the fear crawling up his spine. He might not be a lawyer, but he knows how easily Bass used to slip in dozens of holes in the treaties they signed with Georgia and Texas.

"We'll stay here and work together to turn on the lights again," Charlie answers, stepping into the room and ignoring the grip Monroe has on her shoulder to prevent her from running off.

Miles feels a strong disappointment in his niece that he doesn't dare to say aloud. Even with the pendants it is not possible to reverse the Dark Days without the information they'd needed from Ben. Their agreement is just a contract for voluntary imprisonment.

It's not like he doesn't want to have Bass back by his side and the kids close and safe, that's like a dream come true. The problem is that he doesn't want Charlie to ever see what he can do while he's in charge of the Militia. He already fears the unconditional love she has for him will turn on him any moment.

"My mom is alive," she adds when her uncle stays silent and out of sight.

Miles jumps up from his crouch and almost bangs his head against the pipe as he reveals himself to the group in surprise. He wants to ask about Rachel, but sees Charlie being lightly restrained by his friend.

"Bass, off!" he barks at the other general. Miles can trust the man with a lot, but never with Charlie.

The president grins against his better judgment and lets go, his arms non-threateningly in the air because Miles seems to have forgotten to pick up his rifle anyway, one hand on the handles of his double swords instead.

"Miles," he says seriously, trying to regain his composure at seeing his best friend. Charlie runs to her uncle and wraps her arms around him in the security that Monroe will keep his promise, though she has no proof the president is a man of his word, yet.

His best friend awkwardly hugs his niece and stares over her shoulder at his two best friends. "Hey General," Jeremy greets with a grin. It is for the good of every citizen in the Republic and many across the border if his friends would just lay aside their differences. "If you and the president would just kiss and make up, we can get back to work."

Miles observes as his best friend's eyes recommend he wouldn't be opposed to actually literally kissing the female Matheson. "Hell no, Bass," he says as he tries to push Charlie into the safety behind him, but of course the stubborn kid doesn't move a muscle.

He tries to change the subject as quickly as he can, zeroing in on the revelation that his former lover is alive and kicking. "You told me Rachel was dead," he accuses Bass. Better to get this all out of the way now.

"I did," his friend agrees without any sign of remorse, "she was playing you like a fiddle, driving us apart and planting these idiotic ideas in your head. Her death would protect you, but unfortunately I couldn't actually kill her."

Behind the president, Jeremy has ordered the soldiers away. They don't need to hear this confidential information that the generals are handing out like candy. Were he not on guard duty of Monroe's sanity for the day, he would leave himself. He never wanted to be promoted beyond his rank for exactly this reason; top-secret stuff is just not his thing. He prefers a simpler life.

"So you turned all her attention on you. That must've been the dumbest move you've ever made." It explained the rapid disintegration of Bass' sanity if he'd been sneaking off to weasel information out of the Matheson-by-marriage.

Together they'd been able to gang up on her and avoid the worst of her manipulative influences. Bass and Rachel fighting one-on-one for so long must've pushed them both over the edge. It's a miracle the Republic is still standing.

Bass agrees with a reluctant nod that it hadn't been his best idea ever. He petulantly wants to argue that he has been winning ever since he isolated her from Miles, but thinks it better not to mention his morally-screwed plots until they're on better terms.

"So where have you been keeping her all this time?" During their shared leadership they'd never been apart for long for security reasons. They'd only been apart when they were sleeping. He finds the answer himself. "Your suite," he realizes out loud. His own back room had been an office, but Bass had already had one, and they'd never come to each other's bedrooms because those were joined by a luxurious sitting room where they gathered.

"I had it renovated while you were on campaign. It took me a while to plan." He'd needed to show Miles a body and have an alternate cell for their long term prisoner.

"And she can turn the lights back on, all of them," Charlie interrupts, a little bit unnerved by the ease with which the two are already half-way telepathically communicating.

It's a relief to Miles that he hadn't taken Rachel prisoner all those years ago for nothing. He'd been right that she knew as much as Ben did. "Is Danny okay?" he asks Charlie the moment he thinks of his nephew.

"Neville did a number on him," she answers, hoping that Miles has indeed killed the captain, "but he'll be okay."

Miles practically winces when he's reminded of the man. "About that," he addresses Monroe, "I might've threatened to slit Julia's throat sometime today."

Bass sighs. "Great," he says sarcastically, "You're lucky I've been wanting to execute the guy for a while, because he won't be forgiving you anytime soon." He'll actually miss Julia, the woman is at the very least amusing and crazy clever. "Care to tell me your escape plan before Nora blows up one of the walls?" he adds.

Miles reluctantly tells on his friends after Charlie assures him they were part of the deal, and Jeremy leaves to intercept them before a bomb goes off.

It takes her a few seconds to notice that they're completely alone with Monroe and that both generals have double swords strapped to their belts and there is a gun only inches away from her foot.

If she can get her mom and Danny out before people notice their president is dead they could turn the power in themselves. Charlie bends over slowly and has her hand wrapped around the barrel, finger already on the trigger when Miles of all people stops her.

Her uncle is almost grinning at her attempt. She turns back to see Monroe with his swords already drawn, tip pointing at the same spot on her neck his fingers had skimmed earlier. "Really, kid," Miles shakes his head. "Come on, Bass, let it go," he tells his friend, "She deserved to try."

Monroe snorts. "I knew she would, just hoped she'd try the scissors again." That way he'd have an excuse to have her back in his arms. No matter, he has enough time to find another opportunity.

"Scissors?" Miles quizzes, his eyebrow raised and eyes darting proudly between his niece and his best friend.

**A/N Yes this is a one-shot, no amount of reviews will convince me to continue. You've been warned…or maybe…no, definitely not. I mean it. I can't keep this one-chap-a-day thing up any longer. I have a life...sometimes…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Loved your overwhelming response, so here's a treat.**

"Monroe is insane," Charlie tells Miles after they've been in Philly for about a week. It's not the first time she says it, and her uncle is one hundred percent sure it will not be the last. Bass' sanity is questionable either way.

Miles is pouring over a map with a compass, drawing paths with its two legs as he notes down the new border shift. He updates the placement of the suspected Rebel Camps and feels his eyes cross at the ridiculous amount of adjustments that litter the outline of the Monroe Republic. He should just start a new one.

"I know, kid. That's why I left." He explained that particular story yesterday when one of his Majors had attempted to kill Bass, and the president tried to wipe out the traitor's whole platoon of thirty-seven soldiers. It had been the reason for a conversation that started much like the one Charlie is intend on commencing today.

Miles knows Bass will follow her in as soon as he composes himself from the row Charlie probably had with him already. They both like to vent at the newly instated general, not even bothering to make the subject of their rant leave the room. That way they can fight again to let off some extra steam with supervision.

Six long days of repeating the same pattern over and over means it throws him for a loop when it changes suddenly. Miles doesn't get a lecture on the paranoia of the general or his untamable temper, not even the memorable one where the kid asked how Monroe got this screwed up and he has to tell her about the car crash and Shelly and the baby. Instead, he is faced with a question he never wanted to answer.

"Do you regret it? Leaving, I mean," she asks with her hands on her hips. He startles at her words. The pencil locked between his fingers slips and a huge grey line that means absolutely nothing runs through the middle of their little empire.

He doesn't know what she wants him to say. Of course he does. Guilt has had him trapped in a bar, drinking himself to death with an agonizing, fitting and deserved slowness. Miles had started each morning with packing and unpacking a duffle bag for a trip to Philly and his subsequent execution, just so he could see his friend one last time.

He decides to be honest. Practically living with his niece for weeks has taught him it works better than the alternative; the girl has a freakishly accurate lie-detector when it comes to her uncle. It's like she has a sixth sense that rings the alarm bells whenever Miles does something that she interprets as having fallen of the wagon.

"Every single day." He meets her eyes as he says it, trying to figure out if Charlie will hate him for loving his brother more than the thousands of strangers he promised he'd protect. Miles wonders what she would do if it was her and Danny in the position as him and Bass. Would she run, would she stay, would she take her brother with her and leave the Republic to wither until someone took over for better or worse?

To his surprise, her glare lets up. "Good," she says with praise. Of course she won't hate him; the girl seems incapable of blaming him for any of his crimes. At his quizzical look, she gives him this more and more frequent expression to tell him he's being an idiot. "He's your friend, Miles."

If there is one trait his niece places above all others, it is loyalty to friends and family. The idealism that has not yet been reached by the horrors she's faced on her way to Philly allows her to forgive Miles' desertion as long as he regrets it and tries to make it up to not only Bass, but the Republic as well. The one way he can make those amends is by taking up his leadership of the lands and repairing his empire from the inside out.

"But he is definitely not mine," she follows up with a mood swing only teenage girls are rumored to have, throwing herself into one of those expensive chairs the president likes to keep around. "Monroe is driving _me_ insane," she laments as she rests her legs on the armrest and bangs her head against the opposite one.

"No one is forcing you to spend the whole day in my office, Charlotte" Bass says from his place by the open door, fully uniformed in blue this time. The woman goes from relaxed to sitting straight up in her chair in two seconds flat, standing on her feet from there.

Charlie can't really blame Monroe for her father's death if she has cleared Miles already, so she is spending most of her time trying to fault the president. To do that, she dragged a copy of the luxurious chair she's curled around into the corner next to his office's door and hides there while soldiers enter to debrief the president on the latest news.

Bass, amused at her antics more than anything, lets her stay hidden in the dark corner of his open door's shadow while he conducts business. Miles' niece is determined to keep an eye on him, and this way he can do the same. At least the murder attempts stopped after the second time. That's not to say Charlie isn't messing up many of his plans.

"Nobody is forcing you to start a war with Austen, Monroe," she spats back with defiance. Bass is quick enough to notice the blush on her cheeks at the implication he'd let shine through in his tone, like she wants to be close to him all day long.

"Austen, Bass?" Miles interrupts before he can contemplate the consequences of the obsession between his best friend and his niece. He's pretty sure the two haven't been out of each other's sight with the exception of the minute-long trips to where he is at any moment of any day. Bass naps in his office and Charlie in her chair, so even asleep they are no more than fifty feet apart.

"Blancherd just wiped out our trading path with the Plains Nation in the south," the president grimaces at Miles. The Texan general leaves a bad taste in both of their mouths. The man had been a torn in their side since they started their Militia. The only Ranger even worse is Fry, and they have had to reluctantly admire the guy's skills ever since even Miles failed to kill him.

That small area between Texas, Georgia and their Republic was the weak spot in all of their defenses, and the power there has been shifting with the day. Having it means they cut of Georgia from the Plains Nation and halving their supplies. Texas in charge of it means Foster can ally with the Plains and surround the Monroe Republic for an obliterating attack. They need that land if they want to survive, Georgia needs it for the same reason, and the Texans unfortunately (if not understandably) hate the Monroe and Matheson duo more than they dislike Kelly Foster.

"Why not write up a treaty with Texas?" Charlie asks, unaware of the underlying issues and the power plays that have been going on since the power went out. Miles and Bass learned the hard way that there is never a choice that will satisfy everyone. It's why the world will always be at war.

"Texas is not the problem," Miles explains, a lot more patient with Charlie's ignorance than Bass. He's had a lot of practice.

"So why attack Austen?" It's the point she's really confused about. The young woman can't read the subtext yet as well as they can. If they're going to get surrounded anyway, they might as well have the manpower of the Rangers and their supplies. That way they will only have two enemies left. Blancherd is a lot laxer with security than Kelly.

"We're at war with Georgia already, can't really improve on that front," her uncle replies. He regrets that Kelly slashed through the fragile agreement just days after he left the Republic. If he'd known the female president would crash her army through the border he'd have stayed a little longer, maybe lost his nerve altogether.

"Didn't they break the treaty when Miles deserted?" Charlie continues with her endless list of questions.

"Yeah, so what?" her uncle dismisses with a wave of his hand, turning back to his map with the new information.

The other general is nowhere near as dismissive, a pensive frown on his face. Realization strikes him like lightning. "Very clever, kid," Bass laughs.

"What?" Miles asks again, this time paying attention. He should learn to listen to his niece more, his best friend thinks with a look at the woman in question.

"Madam President Kelly Foster has a crush on you," Bass smirks with mirth. He should have seen it before.

"No way," Miles is quick to deny, "She loathes me. Remember what I did to her?" Charlie hears another war story coming, but is pretty sure it's irrelevant.

"Foster hates me," the president states almost proudly, "She thinks you're just pulling her pigtails." It doesn't escape Charlie's notice that the sentiment is very much returned on the speaker's side. Also, her uncle is on first name basis with Georgia's leader, while Monroe is not.

"I say we sent Miles to rewrite the treaty and actually put it on paper this time," Charlie says before her uncle's best friend can bait him into spiraling away from the subject and latch onto Miles' very interesting love life.

"No way," the man in question refuses adamantly, although they all know he doesn't really have a choice and will do it anyway. "I'm not leaving the two of you alone for two weeks. There won't be a Republic left to negotiate for."

It's funny that Miles thinks he's keeping them in check, Charlie is convinced she is the linchpin for these men, and Bass isn't really aware he needs a middleman (or woman) for his interactions yet.

"What's that supposed to mean, Miles?" Charlie says indignantly.

Her uncle isn't going to give her any ideas; god knows Bass has enough of those for all three of them. Miles ignores the inquiry with experience, his friend has no such inhibitions.

"He thinks I'm going to use his absence to seduce you into my bed," the president replies with a smirk on his face, not even denying it. Charlie blushes, but despite what Bass might think, it is anger that causes it.

"In your dreams, Monroe," the young woman bites back with her hands on her hips.

Bass' eyes skim down her figure unabashedly and he gets a jab in the side from her uncle for it.

"Very well," the man agrees, though he wonders how long it will take for dreams to become reality. With Miles gone, it should be a lot easier. Her uncle won't be around to keep reminding her how stupid it would be to give in.

"Oh, and '_we_ are sending Miles', Charlotte?" he grins before leaving to update everyone on the other general's upcoming trip.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N All my reviewers are absolutely amazing. Special thanks to Gizzy1213, who exchanged some ideas with me so I could get this written up. **

Despite her blackened mood, Charlie follows Monroe back out the door. She grabs Miles roughly by the sleeve of his navy blue uniform and pulls him along despite his protests.

"Come on, kid," her uncle whines as he stumbles when Charlie picks up the pace because Bass is out off he sights, "You can leave him unsupervised for an hour or two. Go visit Danny or something."

They pass a guard patrolling the corridor, and Charlie spots the president strolling calmly around the corner, Jeremy Baker at his side. They're not even talking, but she has the feeling the captain has been playing both a sounding board and unmistakably some kind of back-up to make sure Monroe re-adjusts to the presence of his best friend without losing it.

The men enter the general's lavish office and without looking back or hearing them, the president generously holds the door to his office open for her in the knowledge Charlie will not leave him alone. If she weren't out to kill him the moment their agreement had reached its ending, it might even be called cute.

The young woman stalks inside, intent on pretending he doesn't exist while never taken her eyes off his form. Miles has no choice but to follow, her death grip on his wrist preventing him from going back to his maps. All of them skillfully ignore the guards stationed there for the president's protection.

"We're pulling a Charlie Daniels," Bass tells Jeremy as soon as they've all sat down in a circle around the antique desk.

"Obviously you don't mean me, since we all know I'm an Angel," Jeremy quips.

"Like we'd ever send you to negotiate with anyone again, the best you can do is annoy people to death. Remember what happened in Detroit with the Watson War Clan?" Miles says. Monroe pulls a face while the captain shrugs. "I got them, didn't I?"

"Whoa, people," Charlie halts the conversation, "Who is Charlie Daniels?" She's used to the strategy meetings between the generals existing out of little more than naming cities they once conquered, but this is new.

All three men look at her with undeniable pity. "Charlie Daniels, 'Devil went down to Georgia'," Monroe slowly speaks, like he can't believe she doesn't know the guy, "Really, Charlotte?" Now it's just disappointment as she shakes her head to convey her lack of knowledge on the subject.

They ignore her, as if she no longer exists to them now that they're aware of her ignorance.

"I can totally see it," Baker starts the meeting back up, "Daniels on his fiddle in the background while Miles rides to face Foster, Madam President singing: I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cos I think I'm better than you, and Miles joining in with: Kelly, you know I'm the best that's ever been." Jeremy sings awfully bad, but nobody seems to mind.

Charlie doesn't have to know what the hell they're talking about to burst out into laughing with Monroe and her uncle, Baker a moment away from whistling innocently as he observes his bosses.

"A man can hope," Miles chuckles. "You spread the word?" he asks Jeremy, who has an impossibly fast network among the Militia. It's almost as quick as texting used to be.

At the captain's serious nod in agreement, Miles takes his leave. "I'm gonna pack a bag."

With the newly returned general gone, Jeremy turns to the man's niece. "Matheson two-point-oh, could we talk for a sec?" Charlie shoots a suspicious look at Monroe, wondering if he's having Baker assist him in an escape attempt, but knows the bullet-proof windows don't open. That, and Monroe gives Jeremy the exact same look of paranoia she is giving him.

The captain moves just out of the guard's ear-shot and stops, Monroe's door still visible. "Miles wasn't around when you first met the general, right?" Jeremy asks. Immediately, Charlie is reminded that Baker is somehow a lot more respectful of Monroe than he is of Miles. She suspects that her uncle's friend suffered at the hands of the president's paranoia more than he's admitted, maybe even feared his own safety at times.

"He wasn't," she answers curtly, "So?" Monroe hadn't interested her much at first, not with her little brother about to be shot and her mother building a weapon of mass destruction. Doesn't mean she hadn't noticed the paranoia and insanity shining behind the powerful man's blue eyes.

"Since Monroe's family died, Miles has been the one to keep him sane and prevented him from putting a bullet through his own skull," Jeremy bluntly states. Charlie can only think it's a shame he didn't, her dad would still be alive.

The captain must've seen her think it, and doesn't hesitate to call her on it. "Listen, kid," he addresses, his choice of words emphasizing her ignorance when it comes to Monroe, "The president did a hell lot of good since the apocalypse started. Miles kept pushing him to help people and save them, myself included."

Charlie can't really forget the story about how the Republic began, with Baker's assailants dead on the ground, her uncle's first kills in many ways.

"Miles had been fighting his own demons for years, and when he lost that battle, that's when things got bad. After he butchered a whole division in Baltimore, he turned his attention to himself and deserted, leaving Monroe to cling to his sanity on a thin thread that he eventually hung himself with."

Charlie wants to say something in defense of her beloved uncle, but doesn't get the chance. "He had to, or it would've been even worse, but keeping Monroe healthy is not as easy as he makes it look." So Baker had been the default for the position.

"Why are you telling me this?" Story time is fun and all, but she already knew this stuff.

"The only reason that Miles coming back is a good thing, is because you somehow manage to keep his demons at bay, which allows him to stay and reduce Monroe's paranoia to acceptable levels." If Jeremy was ever asked if he'd met an angel in his lifetime, he'd tell them the little Matheson was closer to it than even himself.

"Miles is going away for a week, at least." Despite his humor from earlier, he seems to be terrified at the idea of taking care of Monroe by himself again. "Monroe's gonna derail, I can tell you that much. I need you," he points a finger at her nose, "to cut out the middle man and handle the president." He almost adds that it will be for the Greater Good, but stops himself.

"You're not serious," Charlie patiently and calmly replies, as if talking to Mr. Insanity himself. Miles approaches from down the hall to say his goodbyes to his niece with a bag in hand and a new uniform, one more comfortable for travelling. He's within hearing distance, so Jeremy cuts it short. Baby Matheson has been questioning the sanity of every single person in Philly anyway, it's not as insulting as it might have been otherwise.

"Yep," Jeremy smiles, the 'p' popping from his lips. Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves for a private chat with the President. If there's anyone keeping them all sane here, it's definitely Captain Jeremy Baker.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N *cough, cough* This isn't even close to what I was planning on, but once they started fighting I just couldn't stop. Thank you guys for the attention, and I hope you'll be delighted by this one.**

With the Mathesons both temporarily distracted, Jeremy slips back into the president's office. He may have just shoved all responsibility to the young woman, but he finishes his task by putting Monroe in his place. Dangerous for his own health maybe, but the right thing to do for all of their sakes.

"We need to talk about the Guy Code, capital letters included," the captain says as he closes the door behind him. Monroe raises his eyebrow, setting down his pencil and closing the report to fully concentrate on Baker. The man hasn't talked to him like that since Miles left. Whatever this is about, it must be important, and includes Charlotte.

The captain figures that there is no subtle way to say it, so he calmly moves so the desk and a chair are between him and the president before continuing: "If you've known a guy for over twenty-four hours, his sister is off limits, that goes for your best friend's niece as well."

Monroe reclines back in his chair and stares unnervingly at his friend. Jeremy shifts from one foot to the other at the gaze in preparation of some kind of attack. With a little bit of luck, it will be verbal, and not a bullet.

To his relief, his general sighs and nods. "I figured," he says, standing and walking around his desk so he can lean against it and still face the other blond. "I can't lose Miles again," he admits. No matter how much he might like his best friend's niece, a roll in the hay is not worth the most important relationship he has in his life.

Jeremy nods sympathetically. "She's going to be around you full time until Miles is back," he informs the president, omitting his own influence over the arrangement. The girl would've stalked Monroe either way. The kid's paranoia at Monroe is worse than the leader's own.

"What if she makes a move?" It's his own curiosity permitting the captain to be this bold.

"Wishful thinking," Monroe dismisses, "If she does, she's more likely to kiss and kill me."

"He's right, you know," Charlie speaks up from behind Jeremy. It's only now that Baker notices Monroe was talking past his shoulder for the last sentence. "It would be incredibly stylish," she smirks at the man. For a young adult, she is surprisingly confident. Girls used to have silly problems to worry about, most still do, but this one is different.

"Trying and succeeding are two very different things, Charlotte," Bass reminds her, not having to mention the attempts with the scissors and the gun.

"I wasn't kissing you the first two times," she replies, the same smirk still in place. If the man didn't know better, he would assume it to be a challenge. Bass doesn't know better, it definitely is. Only Jeremy's presence keeps him from accepting the challenge and kissing that smirk away.

"You're more likely to get distracted than I am," he quips back. There's no reason not to reply, she might think she won if he stays silent. This is game he will not be defeated at.

"Is that your ego speaking, Monroe?" she asks genuinely. That man's narcissism knows no bounds. She doesn't need to hear the stories to know the blond used to be a womanizer. She wonders if a woman ever told him no.

Jeremy snorts in the background before leaving the two. Charlie won't be giving in for a while, he'll check on her progress in a day or two. If something happens, he'll probably be the first to know anyway.

The pair ignores the captain, blue locked on blue. "I take pride in my abilities, Charlotte," he calmly replies from his perch on his desk. The girl lets a mocking laugh escape her lips.

"Like killing people?" she questions with a sneer on her face, the conversation turning serious at neck-breaking speed. They never do manage to have a pleasant talk when they're in private.

Monroe rolls his eyes in exasperation. "This again? You seem to be just fine with Miles slaughtering whole squads when rescuing your brother, and slicing through a couple of soldiers all by yourself, but my hobby bothers you?"

This is the fourth time they're back on this subject in as many days. "I don't call murder my hobby," she snaps at him. Maybe he was a little careless with words. He's losing his political correctness now that Miles is back and as crass as ever.

"Obviously you've never fought by my side," Bass grins, trying to get the fight back to flirting. Some days it works, today is not one of those.

"People by your side end up dead," Charlie snarls, taking a step toward the desk and the man leaning against it. The implication of his family's accident and Shelly's death are clear and slip from her in anger.

She knows she's gone too far the moment she finishes the sentence, but it's too late. Monroe jumps away from his desk and tackles her, her back slamming against the wall beside the door, pain shooting up her spine.

His hand is twisted in her hair, pulling at it until her throat is bare to him for his other hand, which presses against her windpipe. His strength is unbelievable, and her struggles are futile as her air runs out. Her eyesight starts to blacken and her brain turns fuzzy, like she's not all there anymore.

Charlie's face is almost buried in Monroe's chest, his body pressed into her, squashing her in fury, trying to feel the life drain from her body. She wraps her arms around him in a last attempt to get to a pressure point, but can't raise her arm far enough, her muscles failing as the oxygen level in her blood lowers.

Just as she's about to lose consciousness, the hand around her throat disappears and the ligaments in her neck relax as the other hand guides her head back to the normal position. Her vision remains blurry and when she tries to push away from the wall she collapses, falling forward and onto her knees, gasping for air.

There is not a second spend thinking about Monroe's location as her whole being struggles to stay alive. Oxygen gets sucked into her lungs and disperses into her blood. Her hands are shaking, her shoulder hitting the floor as her arm gives out.

Charlie lies there, closer to death than she ever thought she'd be, but can't rest. A danger alert is shouting at her, telling her she is not safe. She'll never be safe with him around. Lifting her eyes from the carpet she scans the blurry room for any human-like shapes, finding one at the opposite wall, even with her vision turning on and off with brief black periods.

Her throat has taken most of the damage, but her whole body hurts as her limbs protest against the movement she tries to make toward the door at her back. Her arms won't support her weight, unable to find stability even though the floor couldn't be smoother.

Her twitching fist is just controlled enough to rub her eyes and clear more of her vision. Her panting is slowing down as her airflow restores itself. Only now does she hear the noise of the door locking behind her, either to prevent her departure or the guard's check up at the noise.

Her eyes, with frequent blinks, follow his agitated pacing for a moment, but the dizziness returns so she has to stop. Instead, Charlie reaches for her knife, intent on having a weapon if the agitated man turns his attention back on her. For now, she's content to remain unnoticed, staying still as long as she can and heal.

Only to raise her head again when porcelain smashes against the wall and loudly scatters on the part of the floor that is carpet-less. A much less satisfying thump is caused by the contact between the concrete and a stack of papers that Monroe wipes from his desk, hands returning to his curls as he tries to calm himself down. She hopes he is at least.

Still disoriented and in pain, but with mostly regained bodily function, she creeps up against the wall. Her hands support her behind her back as she makes the move back to vertical, blending into the solidness behind her as well as she can.

Her right hand is on the lock and her left on the handle when Monroe locks his eyes on her form. She isn't scared, not of him, but she is still very willing to kill him. The knife between two fingers moves to her palm and fingers clutch around the handle. Her own sight focused on Monroe's double blades.

"You really know how to get into a girl's bad graces," Charlie rasps, her voice distorted and pain in her throat. The weapon is still hidden at her back, but Monroe hasn't even reached for a weapon yet, not that he needs one to overpower her.

At the moment, Monroe's breathing is harsher than her own, and he looks absolutely disheveled and completely insane. Family is a sore point for Mr. President, noted.

"Get out," he growls at her, but she stays exactly where she is. She suddenly gets what Jeremy had been warning her about. Miles would know what to do, but she is clueless. She only knows that her best chance is getting out or killing Monroe and end it all. She is not a coward, she won't run.

"Now!" Monroe shouts.

"Come on, Mister President," Charlie baits him with a mocking tone at his lovely title, "Can't handle it? No wonder this place went to hell." She's appearing a lot more confident than she feels, but stubbornness wins out over all of her other treats, good and bad.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he grinds out as he gets nearer, closer and closer to stabbing distance. Charlie circles with him, her back leaving the wall and moving to her chair from the meeting.

"Don't I? You just lost your mind, and you think you've actually had a handle on anything in years." A sharp laugh escapes her, the adrenaline of her attempted murder leaving her just a shade darker than she would normally be.

His gaze suddenly sharpens. "It seems like you're not all that far behind me," he grins, the distance between them closing. "Mathesons never are," he adds with Miles and Rachel in his mind, their own demons as fierce as his. What does this one have that makes her like she is?

"Which demons is little Charlotte fighting, huh?" he question like a predator, fingers circling around his right-hand blade as he spots her weapon. "Mommy leaving? Daddy dying? Miles abandoning you? Maybe little Danny unprotected and alone because you failed to keep him save? "

He's getting her back for her own jab at his family, and he's succeeding at mentioning almost every fear stuck in her head. It only makes her fight back harder.

"At least they love me, yours just fear you. Even your only two friends think you're crazy," she spews at him. He steps back slightly as if she's physically hit him, or maybe it's the knife she just rested above his navel, ready to plunge upward and into his intestines and other organs.

"Rachel and Danny seem to think you are," he strikes and hits. Neither of them has even spoken a word to her since they learned of the deal. The main reason she's even had time to stalk Monroe is because her brother refuses to have her at his bedside until she either kills the president or breaks them all out. He looks at her like he doesn't even know her anymore.

"They don't matter, do they?" she says like the people he mentioned are unimportant, "It's all about Miles, and he will always choose me over you. You said it yourself." The most important man in both their lives is one and the same, and her uncle will always love and protect her before his best friend. What Charlie has done to deserve that devotion is still unclear to her, but there is nobody in the world who can convince her otherwise, not when Monroe himself believes it to be the truth.

She thinks she has him, but is thrown for a loop with the next revelation. "That's what I thought until your mom came into our lives and screwed her brother-in-law until he practically left me for dead. Rachel will always come first, every single time until they end the world together."

"What?" Charlie frowns, as if her addled mind can't really make the connection yet. When he had talked to Miles about her mom, as if the woman had driven her uncle to the edge of sanity, she never thought of something like this.

"You think I could ever do this on my own?" Monroe gestures to the streets of Philly visible through the windows, "Miles started it, Rachel manipulated him into all her hypocritical moral bullshit she likes to teach, and I kept it all up and running after it had long been ruined. Utopia is a dream, Charlotte, and the apocalypse is hardly the place to implement it."

Not once does she accuse him of lying, only driving the knife through the wool of his uniform, cold steel on his skin, breaking it just enough to make it bleed.

"Your mom started this by turning of the lights, and no matter how much I screw this world up, no matter how many I kill, no matter if I've got a gun pointed at you and your brother and even Miles, she refuses to turn the power back on and save them all. Why is that?"

He doesn't know the answer, and neither did she, but now she has an inkling of suspicion, one that she'll confirm long before she informs Monroe, if she ever even does that at all. If it turns out to be true, she doesn't know if she can. Danny is everything, her whole world.

Monroe sees it in her eyes, so close their foreheads almost touch. "You know," he grins in victory. "What is more important than all those lives, Charlotte?" He thinks back to his own words. "More important than family?" Nothing, and they both know it. Rachel lives for one thing, and it is neither Charlie nor Ben nor Miles.

"Sick little Danny," he suddenly remembers. Miles had been out of his mind with worry the day the boy was born, after all the complications the Mathesons had worried neither the baby nor Rachel would make it out of the delivery room alive. "Miraculous recovery." Still sick, but alive against all odds, beating every statistic in the world.

Just the fact they're thinking the same confirms it to be the truth; Danny will die if the switch flips and the light turn back on.


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie has her hand on Monroe's shoulder and her knife positioned for a quick kill before the general has even considered moving. No matter what, she will not let him murder Danny.

"Whoa, Charlotte, I'm not planning anything," he tries to calm her down, which is hopelessly ironic considering the rapidly forming bruises below her chin. They can both hear the unspoken 'yet' in the sentence.

"We're going to talk with my mom first," she half-orders the president with a growl. Miles is gone already, so she is completely alone in this. All she can do now is hope for the best, because one word from Monroe equals her family's death, and she can't exactly take him prisoner.

Charlie's idea is the same as his, so Bass nods in agreement and makes his way to his bedroom. A part of his deal with the Mathesons was the destruction of the amplifier in exchange for the power. The unfinished device is sitting in the basement downstairs, while Rachel is back in her prison room until she starts cooperating.

Compared to his office, the president's bedroom is a dump. A bed, a wardrobe, and that's it. The lack of furniture shows that he barely spends any time here, and that doesn't surprise the young woman at all. The door in the back leads to her mother, whom she has not seen since she struck the deal with the Monroe Republic and its leader.

"Charlie," Rachel breathes out the moment her daughter enters her luxurious cell. The relief and the hope for a possible rescue mission disappear as quickly as they came when Bass follows behind her.

"Are you ready to help?" her daughter asks coldly, a knife still in her hand and subtly pointed at the president. Said man is still at the door, closer to Danny than she is. They need to present an united front for now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't gesture for him to close the door and move closer. He does so without complaint, even though they both know he can easily overpower her now.

"I won't give him his precious power, so stop asking for it." The tone she uses might have been appropriate for the sheltered five-year old, but over a decade later it has lost its impact completely.

"I could just kill Danny and get this over with," Bass casually mentions, elated to see Rachel clench her hands into fists at the threat. He's never really had leverage like this before, and the change is refreshing to say the least. He suddenly wonders why he hasn't been by her room to brag yet. It probably has something to do with her daughter stalking his every move.

Rachel doesn't say a word. Her mere presence aggravates Charlie. That's when Rachel's eyes move from her daughter's face to her neck, the purple color of her tanned skin visible for everyone to see. Her mom's own pale skin tone fades to white.

"What is that?" she asks as she rushes to close the distance between her and the girl, stopping abruptly as Charlie steps backwards. The proximity makes it easy to identify male handprints, and she rightly draws the conclusion that Bass did it. He's had her by the throat more often than she can count, though he's never left even the tiniest bruise on her. Charlie hit a button that Rachel either doesn't know the existence of or hasn't dared to use.

"Nothing," Charlie dismisses. In light of the new revelations, her skirmish with the general seems like ages ago. "We know, about Danny's connection to the power." Just like that, Rachel's worry for her daughter is transferred to her son. Charlie mentally snorts at her mother; one mention of Danny and her mom forgets she exists. Typical.

"It's why you won't tell us anything, isn't it?" she presses, "Danny will die either way." The words are hard to get past the blockage in her throat, which could be the result of the thought of losing Danny or the bruises.

"You have to understand," Rachel says softly, like she doesn't want the world to hear, "If I turn off the Nano it won't change anything. No matter what people tell you, the world wasn't any better when the power was still on. Just as many people died, just as many wars were raging on and on, and humanity was exhausting every resource they had with overpopulation." Bass and Charlie can easily hear the lie. The words might be true, but it is also a story that Rachel has concocted to convince anyone to keep the world as it now is.

"Bullshit," Bass calls her on it, "You don't care about that, Rachel, you're too selfish." Charlie is already forgotten by the time they rehash this old argument.

"Why do you want power, Bass? You're just as selfish as I am. You want to win the war with Georgia, you don't care about them either." Neither of them cares about the strangers. All they want is their family safe, and for Monroe that means eliminating the threats of Georgia and the Plains Nation, while Rachel just needs to keep Danny alive.

Instead of playing the woman's game, and discrediting himself with Charlie, he turns the conversation away from the current subject, where neither of them looks good.

"Why do you want the power back, Charlotte?" he asks, genuinely interested. Her motivation has never been the power, but always her little brother and Miles. She can't really be interested in anything more than that. Even her mom falls short of worthiness with her daughter.

Honestly, the young woman is stumped by the question. Now that she knows the price of the power, she can't even see why it was an attractive idea in the first place. She knows very little of life before the Blackout, never having been interested in the history Aaron attempted to teach back home.

She searches for an answer but can't find one. The other two in the room look at her with expectant eyes. "It will save lives," she chokes out after a few seconds. Family is not the most important thing in the world; faced with reality, it sounds like a lie.

"No it won't," Monroe disagrees, "Georgia will try to burn the Republic to the ground first." He has more weapons of mass destruction than Foster can even dream of. That won't stop the woman from wiping out everything until she is destroyed herself. The population will be reduced to maybe a fourth of what it is now. He tells Charlie so.

"Why do you want power, Monroe?" the young Matheson turns back to him. Her mother's explanation sounded likely, but hearing it from the man himself is important to her.

"I won't need power unless Miles fails to convince Foster to write up a truce. Without it, the Republic won't last the year." He can negotiate with the other President if her needs to. It definitely would help if he can decrease his border patrols and focus on the quality of life in his territory. He might care little for the strangers, but maybe a better life would convince some rebels to back off. It's not like the United States was anywhere close to perfect either. If only those pests would remember that.

"So we wait for Miles?" Charlie asks hopefully. The first thing on her to-do list is a visit to her brother, whether he wants one or not.

"We wait for Miles."


	6. Chapter 6

Waiting for Miles is easier said than done.

She does visit Danny immediately, though he is almost cold with her, especially as she still won't let Monroe out of her sight, and dragged him along to stand in a corner.

He humors her distrust with grace, not once going against her order to leave her brother in the dark. Charlie can't tell the boy what he is partially responsible for. It hurts her to think about it, Danny might do something stupid.

Monroe's presence strains the conversation even more than it would be without it. Still, she doesn't dare let him alone with the new knowledge they gained. She'd rather have him close to her and Danny than plotting behind her back.

Now, they're back in his office, Charlie in her chair beside the door, listening in to the reports that soldiers keep delivering. The trading area on Plains ground has switched hands again, first to the Republic, but quickly taken over by Georgia again. The take-overs sometimes happen twice a day, depending on the amount of goods intercepted during the ambushes.

As a back-up plan, the present general is gathering his army for an invasion in Austen if Miles fails. Charlie can't agree, but he shuts her up with more arguments that she grudgingly listens to. His experience overpowers her idealism with both cynicism and pessimism. The worst part is that he is so very charming and politically correct that he sounds like an optimistic and faithful good guy. It makes her nauseous when he does it.

When they have finished for the day, Jeremy walks in with a good mood. He ruffles Charlie's hair as he passes by the door and is half-way to Monroe's desk when he abruptly changes direction. The realisation that he saw something is translated in his mind and he needs the confirmation.

He pulls the hair that she'd strategically arranged around her throat away from the bruises and sees the purple handprints clinging to her skin like a morbid necklace. Charlie sees his expression for a tiny moment.

He is neither angry nor sadistically happy with her strangulation, he looks defeated. Jeremy had hoped that Charlie could accomplish what Miles did effortlessly, but she was even worse off than he'd been for the past few years. Monroe had never physically attacked him even once in all that time, but the little Matheson had set him off in less than a day.

Bass observes the scene with interest. He is lucky that Miles is gone for long enough that the remnants of his attack will have faded. Jeremy is not attached to the girl in so far that he will choose her over his president and friend, though he doubts it will take much longer. The captain always liked Miles more than the other general, and though that changed with the desertion and assassination attempt, Charlie is very much like her uncle in many aspects.

"Great," Jeremy grinds out. He should've known better than to think this could work. He isn't cupid, Monroe is insane and Charlie is very justified in trying to murder him in cold blood. After all this time of handling his boss alone, he'd just hoped for a miracle, and Mathesons are usually accompanied by those in spades.

"It's been what, six hours? Did you literally try to kill each other while I was still talking to Miles right outside this freaking door?" He can't see Monroe's sustained damage, but he doesn't doubt the kitten fought back with everything she had. Though, with those bruises, she must've gotten pretty close.

"Yes, actually," Charlie answers from behind him while he faces the general. "It was quite productive," she says with feigned nonchalance. Her hands start shaking if she thinks about it. Even during her trip from Chicago to Philadelphia, she never got this close to death. She was almost shot, almost blown up, almost killed in a lot of ways imaginable, but those hands around her throat were real in a way the others weren't, slower and personal.

Jeremy closes his eyes in exasperation. Bass silently agrees. Not only has he figured out Rachel's motivation, he has been thrown by the girl's actions. He's learning quickly and quietly just how much she is like Miles, and how much more she isn't.

All he's been stuck on, even since the biggest revelation of the decade, is the moment he knew the girl would lose consciousness. He'd been furious, and had enough experience to know exactly how long he would need to drain the life from the girl who had subtly accused him of murdering his parents, siblings, wife and baby.

Even though it hadn't been meant to be, she had wrapped her arms around him in an imitation of a hug. It had been enough to snap him out of the idea of killing Miles' niece in fear of the consequences. After that he'd spent precious seconds trying to calm himself down.

Instead of leaving when he tried to get her out of range, Charlotte had baited him again with skill and little effort. She had not been scared for a second. People have hated him for years from a distance, but when they meet him face to face they are paralyzed by the fear he so easily inspires in others.

"Don't worry, Baker, we both know better now." It's meant to be comforting, but maybe his friend just can understand the already complicated link between him and Charlie. She won't say something stupid, though she will push his buttons, and he won't let her get a rise out of him with badly disguised accusations.

Jeremy snorts. It's going to be a long week.


End file.
